


Nexus

by GingerEl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Gladio Week 2020, Grief/Mourning, Growing Up, Hair Braiding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Managing Injuries, Memories, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Minor Injuries, Polyamory, Sibling Love, Trust, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerEl/pseuds/GingerEl
Summary: Gladio's always known what he wanted from his life, has always had the resolve to do whatever needs to be done.“But what if - what if -” Gladio starts twice and stops. Unable to put this into words. If he tries to be more he runs the risk of not being enough.“What are you frightened of?” Dad asks.Gladio bristles, he’s not frightened of anything - he’s not supposed to be anyway. But this - maybe this he is.“If I try to be more than just a physical barrier between Noctis and harm maybe I’ll fail at both,” Gladio admits, “Maybe I won't be a good friend or a good Shield.”Alternatively: Gladio is made up of the people he loves most, every single one of them has taught him something that made him better and stronger than he was before.1. Hyacinth | 2. Ignis | 3. Iris | 4. Noctis | 5. Clarus | 6. Cor | 7. PromptoWritten for Gladio Week 2020
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Gladiolus Amicitia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Cor Leonis, Gladiolus Amicitia & Gladiolus & Iris Amicitia's Mother, Gladiolus Amicitia & Iris Amicitia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 41
Kudos: 71
Collections: Gladio Week





	1. Hyacinth

**Author's Note:**

> I really let myself get all in my feelings for Gladio week you guys.

Gladio is a mama’s boy.

Not in a cry-baby, hide behind her skirts kind of way but because his mother _gets_ him, understands he can be brave and strong but also like fairy tales and the sweet scented bouquets she spreads around the house.

He _loves_ her.

She’s sweet and kind and lets him have cinnamon cookies even when Jared says he should be full up by now. She _smells_ like cinnamon too, most of the time, when she’s not been in the garden all day or at the Citadel with dad helping _whip those new recruits into shape_. She’s always there at night though, pulling Dad into his room so they can read him a story to send him off to sleep.

Gladio loves his Ma more than anything.

\- - -

“What are you doing?”

Gladio doesn’t wait for Ma to make space for him in her lap, just starts to climb up onto the armchair where she’s sat twisting and knotting strands of coloured thread together.

Ma laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners as she settles into a broad smile.

“I’m making a book mark,” she tells him.

Gladio frowns, “What’s that for?”

Ma hooks her arms around him and squeezes him tight to her side, she’s soft and warm and Gladio presses closes.

“Not everyone is like _you_ and reads a whole book in one go,” she teases, tapping his nose, “Sometimes we have to stop part way through and with a bookmark we can mark the place we stopped so we know where to start again.”

Gladio still doesn’t really understand why anyone would possibly need such a thing but Mama looks happy as she goes back to knotting the threads together. The colours are pretty so Gladio simply settles in her lap and watches this _bookmark_ take shape.

“Who’s it for?” he asks after a while.

Ma turns to kiss his forehead softly, tying off the end of her row.

“It’s for Daddy.”

“Why?”

Ma laughs, “Because I think he would like it and I like doing nice things for the people I love.”

“Like me and Daddy?”

“Exactly. Like you and Daddy,” Ma agrees, kissing his head again, “Because we love _love_ here and celebrate it as often as we can.”

Again Gladio’s not sure he understands but his Mama is happy which means that he is too.

<>

It’s just him and Prompto in the motel room. Ignis had dragged Noct off to help him with the laundry and Gladio’s been enjoying the alone time with his youngest boyfriend. Partially because Prompto is somehow quiet and still whilst being awake for a change.

“Who knew it would take disaster of a road trip to get you into reading,” Gladio teases gently, settling beside Prompto on the bed to read his own book. Prompto’s book is technically _his_ too, but that's besides the point.

Prompto lowers the book enough to stick his tongue out over the top of it.

“I liked reading before,” Prompto argues, disappearing behind it again, “I just thought you only read boring stuff - you were keeping all the gay historical romance secret from me.”

Gladio laughs and shifts so he can hold his book with one hand, using the other to squeeze Prompto’s thigh and Prom slides across the bed a little to rest his weight against Gladio’s side. Its calm and peaceful, Gladio wonders if he might actually be able to go for a nap before the others are back with dinner.

His phone rings and Prompto grumbles sleepily, pushing away from Gladio to sit up properly.

Gladio swipes his phone to answer it, saying, “Hey, Iggy.”

“ _We could use a hand I’m afraid. Between all the laundry and food we’re quite over encumbered.”_

Gladio chuckles, “Thought you’d call the biggest hands you know, huh?”

“ _Precisely_ ,” Ignis says.

“I’ll meet you at the Crow’s Nest?” Gladio checks.

“ _If you don’t mind, love._ ”

Gladio promises to be there soon and quickly hangs up the phone, reaching for the old receipt he’s been using as a bookmark.

Which is no longer on the side table where he’d left it. Apparently.

“Son of a -” he mutters, patting across the bed spread in the hopes of finding it.

“What’s the matter?” Prompto asks.

“Can’t find my bookmark,” Gladio explains, clambering off the mattress to see if it somehow got underneath him.

It had not.

“You want the one out of the back of this?” Prompto offers.

Gladio looks at him in surprise.

“What?”

Prompto closes the book around one of his fingers and then reaches between the final page and the cover and pulls free a woven bookmark.

Gladio can almost smell his mothers cinnamon cookies, pictures the way her eyes crinkled up at the corners when she’d bring him a new book or pass him the dishes to put away in the high cupboards when he’d out grown her.

“Big Guy?” Prompto says.

Gladio takes the bookmark from Prompto’s outstretched hand and sinks back down onto the bed. The mattress shifts a little and then the warmth of Prompto’s form is crowding him from behind, arms around his shoulders.

“What’s up?” Prompto asks, chilly nose pressed behind his ear.

“My Ma made this,” Gladio explains. He turns it over in his hands and Prompto squeezes him a little tighter, “She made it for Dad - I haven’t seen it in _years_.”

Gladio’s never really spoken to Prompto about his mother, she was gone before Prompto came along and even after time had moved on it was still difficult for Gladio to be without her. To _talk_ about being without her.

But he remembers her, remembers her telling him to be kind and calm. Steadfast and loyal. So much of what he is, the things he’s managed to do, are because of the things she’d taught him.

Gladio briefly wonders how his mother would react to knowing he’s in love with not just one man but three of them, the three greatest men he’s ever known. But there's really nothing to wonder about really, he realises; she’d be happy for him. He doesn’t doubt it for a second.

“I bet she was really great,” Prompto says quietly, still burrowed into the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Raised you didn’t she?” Prompto says. Gladio can hear his shy smile.

Gladio smiles too, running his thumb over the texture of the bookmark. He wonders when his Dad last held it, knows that his Dad had read the book shortly before their trip, tucked it into Gladio’s going away pile without really mentioning it. Maybe he left it there on purpose, wanted to send Gladio off with something of his mother’s without making a song and dance about it.

Gladio wishes _he’d_ gotten around to the book sooner.

“Thanks,” Gladio says to Prompto, for the compliment and for finding this for him. He shifts a little so he can press a kiss to Prompto’s cheek. Gladio reaches for his own book and tucks the mark in between the pages.

No time to sit and dwell as long as he'd really like, Noct and Iggy need him.


	2. Ignis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Gladnis and background OT4
> 
> Be aware that Gladio deals with grief and mourning for both his parents in this one, take care of yourselves 💜

Gladio had trusted Ignis even before they were friends.

He’d trusted Ignis to take care of Noctis when he wasn’t on hand and Ignis had honoured him the same way. They’d existed in the same space for several years, two planets on similar orbits who’s paths never crossed. And then Noct had been injured and Ignis’ care had ramped up, Gladio’s own hands on assistance with Noct pushing them closer and closer together.

By the time Ignis hit his teens Gladio would have been hard pushed to name a person he was closer with than Ignis. Gladio trusted him with his secrets, with the difficult extremes of his emotions that others would turn away from. Ignis could be trusted with them all.

<>

Gladio’s almost sixteen when his mother dies. Iris is seven and old enough to understand her mother’s gone but not quite ready to realise how that affects anyone but _her._ His father tries but his devotion to Hyacinth ran deep and Gladio knows his father needs all his strength to stay strong for his duties and his youngest child. It hurts not to have them for this but Gladio buries it deep, far underneath the focus he brings to Noct’s training, to his own sessions with Cor - masking it all over with books stolen from his mother’s study and sneaking out of the manor in the dead of night once he knows his father and sister are asleep.

Gladio doesn’t _do_ anything when he sneaks out, it’s more like he’s _waiting_ for trouble to find him. Hoping someone might start a fight so he can _do_ something _,_ hoping he might come across someone he can _help_ , someone he can s _ave_.

He finds neither of those things.

Instead he finds Ignis exiting an all night pharmacy with a small paper bag in his hand.

If Gladio is supposed to be at home tucked up in bed then Ignis should already be asleep, deep in the midst of a dream.

“What are you doing here?” Gladio blurts and for the first time in his life he sees Ignis visibly _startle_.

“I could say the same to you,” Ignis says. He surveys Gladio from behind his lenses, eyes flicking over the sweats he’s wearing and up to the cap pulled low over his face. Ignis frowns and tucks the bag under his arm before asking, “Are you alright?”

They both know the answer is _no_ but when Gladio says, “Fine,” Ignis doesn’t call him out for lying.

“What are you doing here?” Gladio asks again.

Ignis glances at the pharmacy behind him, “Noctis is feeling a little under the weather and used up the last of his cold medicine this evening, I’d stepped out to procure some more.”

“The Citadel was all out?” Gladio asks in surprise.”

Ignis chuckles, “Of the flavour he likes, yes.”

Gladio snorts and scuffs at the ground with the toe of his shoe.

“Gladio,” Ignis says patiently, “If you need to talk -”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are, but regardless, I am here if you need me.”

Gladio nods.

“I’m not supposed to be out,” Gladio admits unnecessarily, “So if you could -”

“Keep this between you and me,” Ignis finishes, “Of course.”

“Thanks,” Gladio looks around, “You’re not out by yourself?”

Ignis points across the road to a nondescript dark car a short distance away, “A member of the Crownsguard escorted me.”

Gladio nods and Ignis hesitates for a long moment before bidding him a goodbye, asking him to be careful and pointedly reminding him his phone is on at all hours of the day.

The next night when Gladio gets the urge to go wandering he picks up his phone and texts Ignis instead.

Ignis never betrays his secret and one message at a time, one shared memory whenever things get to be too much things get _better_. It never stops hurting but with Ignis as his confidant it gets _better_.

\- - -

Insomnia falls.

The King dies and with him goes Clarus.

Gladio is homeless and orphaned in one fell swoop.

He’s not the only one, all _four_ of them are now without extended family in all likelihood, so he pushes onward. He keeps Noct steady and helps an unwavering Ignis steer them in the right direction, funnelling his pain into a fierce protection of the others even if it comes out heavy handed and almost unkind. The strain on their relationship is the greatest it’s ever been since a time when they were children. Before Gladio had seen Noct for what he really is, before Prompto had come along to brighten all their days.

They don’t stop.

They check the overlook and meet up with Cor. Two tombs are done and claimed in the span of a day then Cor leaves them to prepare an assault directly on Imperial ground. They win and Noct’s brightened by the victory, the tiny act of revenge doing something to sooth his heart.

Gladio feels numb.

They scramble together the gil for a motel and Noct heads off on his own, promising to keep a low profile. Gladio would worry but he can sense he’s close and when Prompto comes back from the store and announces he’s going to join Noct on the roof he knows they’ll be okay. Prompto’s the best person for Noct to be with right now, the only one he might talk to and maybe with a little _space_ Gladio will work out how to breath again.

Besides, _Gladio_ had partly trained Prompto himself, he trusts the blond to keep Noct safe _and_ be able to yell loud enough for him to hear if they get into a situation he can't fix.

It’s a small motel with no balconies and only one of the windows isn’t painted shut. Gladio pushes it open wide even though the late evening air is cold and braces himself against the frame with his palms, closing his eyes as the breeze washes over him.

Ignis’ hand, free of it’s leather wrapping for once, alights gently on his shoulder, fingers pressing into the muscle.

Gladio squeezes his eyes tighter shut.

He wishes they hadn’t stopped moving, wishes they were strong enough to keep going through the night so there was something physical for him to do, some monster to kill or MT to put down.

“Gladio…” Ignis says quietly.

“It’s alright,” Ignis tells him, “You’re allowed a _moment_. I’m very - I’m truly,” Iggy’s voice catches, “I’m sorry about your father.”

Gladio feels his shoulders tremble and he squeezes tighter against the window sill to try and still them.

Gladio’s father is _gone_. He’s gone.

Died doing his duty just like everyone knew he would. Gladio wants to be angry but he _can’t_ be, not when his father would have been honoured and proud to be with Regis until the very end. Gladio might do the same one day - he will if he has to - it’s the realities of being a shield. Of being an Amicitia.

So he can't be angry, not at his _Dad_. But he can be sad.

“Just doing his job,” Gladio manages to murmur.

“You’re still allowed to be _sad_ , Gladio.”

The tremble in Gladio’s shoulders gets worse and Gladio can’t fight it. Ignis drops his hand and Gladio is _bereft_ until his boyfriend, the first of his loves, steps right up into his space and wraps and arm across his broad chest. Ignis presses his face into Gladio’s neck and the way his glasses press against his skin is uncomfortable but wonderfully grounding.

Gladio reaches up to grip Ignis’ forearm, ducking his head as he feels hot tears _finally_ run down his cheeks and splatter against the back of his hand.

Gladio has always trusted Ignis. Trusted him with all of his thoughts and secrets.

Gladio can trust him with his too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. For me Gladio is a happy crier - weddings, births, movies etc the big guy balls but when it comes to sad shit he bottles that up and doesn’t let anyone see. Or just one person, as it were.


	3. Iris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entirely brother & sister bonding time with hints of a background OT4.

“Be careful,” his mother says the first time she puts Gladio’s little sister into his hands.

“Her names is Iris,” Dad tells him, gently brushing his hand over the shock of brown hair growing from her head.

 _Iris_ , Gladio thinks, like the new flowers his mother had planted it in the garden this summer. Gladio loves those flowers and he loves _this_ Iris too. He doesn’t even know why he loves her just that when he looks down at her his heart feels full.

“You like her,” Ma observes.

Gladio nods and pulls his arms up so he can brush his lips against little Iris’ forehead. She scrunches up her face and wiggles a bit. Gladio’s heart expands even further.

“You’ll help keep her safe?” Dad asks.

Gladio nods.

Gladio’s never letting anything happen to her.

<>

Most eighteen year old brothers would probably chafe at the idea of chaperoning a group of ten year old girls at a paint your own pottery party on a Friday night and well -

Gladio’s not exactly _thrilled_ but Iris had blinked up at him with big, puppy god eyes and _begged_ him to please come instead so they didn’t have to go with any _real_ adults for her birthday. Generally speaking Iris and her friends are chill and Gladio _loves_ the little brat, now more so than ever so he'd agreed.

Iris is ten - plus _two_ days - and Gladio had picked her up from school today and bought her straight home so she had time to get ready for her party. They’d offered Iris a hundred different options for her party and to Gladio’s surprise she’d blown straight passed the pizza party and the roller rink. Gladio didn't even _know_ you could take a group of pre-teens to a shop where they could all paint a tea cup and somehow have a good time.

“ _Gladdy_ ,” she calls from upstairs and even from this distance Gladio can detect the wobble in her voice.

“ _Shit_ ,” Gladio mumbles pitching his voice louder to yell up the stairs, “On my way.”

He takes the stairs two at a time, finding Iris in the shared bathroom, on her little step so she can see in the mirror properly. She’s starring at herself in the mirror, hair clip in one hand and comb in the other, eyes already glistening.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” Gladio asks her.

“I can’t do _it_ ,” Iris says and she stamps her little foot, almost toppling herself off the stool.

“Your hair?” Gladio checks and Iris nods, bottom lip quivering.

“Hey, hey,” Gladio says, “None of that. Birthday girls aren’t supposed to cry.”

Iris sniffs, nodding in a completely unconvincing way. Gladio’s protective drive kicks into over drive and he plucks the comb from her hand. Not _his_ little sister, not on a day when she’s supposed to be celebrating.

“What are we going for?” Gladio asks her.

Iris holds up her fingers, “Two braids and my butterfly.”

Gladio nods, that’s well within his capabilities. Gladio’s been braiding Iris’ hair since she had enough hair to braid, watching the way his mother would do it and then copying later, even an almost baby Iris sitting patiently for her brother while he tries to do something nice for her.

Gladio parts her hair at the back into two even sections and temporarily ties one out of the way. The other half he carefully separates into three sections and methodically pulls the outside strands in over the centre, back and forth over and over until he reaches the end.

“What do you think?” he asks Iris. She beams at him.

“Thanks, Gladdy!”

Gladio secures the braid with a small hair tie and kisses the top of her head.

“Anything for you.”

\- - -

Iris the Daemon-Slayer they call her now.

He hears it whispered whenever he comes back to Lestallum, people talking in hushed whispers as they gather near her clothing stand.

The urge to shelter and protect is still there, it never goes away, but in this new world they’re living in now the best way Gladio can keep her safe is to give her the skills she needs to keep _herself_ safe.

Gladio checks in as often as he can, calls whenever he has signal and makes sure that’s she still getting along okay. Ignis and Prompto help out too, if they’re not together then one of them tries to stay in or around Lestallum. Nearby just _in case_ she needs something.

Gladio’s rocking up alone this time, he’d just left Iggy and Prompto in Hammerhead then made the drive across to Lestallum by himself. What they’re doing there with Cindy is technical stuff, fiddly and no good for his big hands. He’ll miss his boyfriends, sure, but it’s the perfect time to stop in and spend some quality time with his little sister seeing as Cor doesn’t need anything from him either.

Iris has a little apartment that’s mostly for her, Talcott and Monica. It’s where Cor sleeps too, and Dustin when they’re about but Gladio has an apartment with Prompto and Ignis. It’s small of course, all the quick fitted apartments in Lestallum are small. Lots of bodies, not a lot of space.

“Gladdy!” Iris calls when she spots him and she abandons her inventory to skip over and throw her arms around his shoulders, hopping clear off the ground.

Gladio catches her. He never hasn’t before and he doesn’t plan on dropping her now.

She feels stronger around the shoulders, maybe a little taller and Gladio squeezes her tight, holding on until she giggles and swats at his back to make him let go.

“Your hairs gotten so long,” Iris tells him, smiling.

“Hard to find a decent barber,” Gladio teases. Plus he likes it _and_ Iggy and Prom have nothing but compliments about the change.

“I _like_ it,” Iris says.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Gladio smiles.

“Lets get dinner,” Iris says taking his hand in hers and leading her off towards where the market used to be, “Monica’s helping today so it’s not quite as good as when Ignis is around but still better than when the hunters are fending for themselves.”

-

They eat back at the boy’s apartment, Iris up on their little couch with her legs folded beneath her and Gladio on the floor in front of it. They don’t talk about anything particularly important, they already spend enough time thinking about serious things and when Iris gets full and passes the last quarter of her food - an okay soup with _unspecified_ meat that Gladio’s choosing not to think too hard about - she starts to pull her fingers through his hair.

That’s kind of nice in an unfamiliar way and Gladio doesn’t think anything of it until her fingers slide the tie free from his ponytail and part his hair in a more deliberate way.

“And just what are you doing?” he asks Iris.

Iris laughs and its so _nice_ to hear that noise in these difficult times that he doesn’t thing to argue with her when she says, “Braiding your hair.”

Gladio shakes his head and she gives a tug on his hair, flopping some of it over to one side as her fingers work.

“Remember when you used to do this for me?” Iris asks.

“Of course I do,” Gladio says, “The day you realised you could do a better job by yourself was an awful one for me.”

Iris shifts on the couch and her knee knocks against his shoulder.

“I would have let you do it,” Iris tells him, “If you’d offered.”

“I know - but its also _wonderful_ to see you standing and _thriving_ on your own.”

Iris braids his hair silently for a few minutes, cursing under her breath and undoing a section before trying again. She’s leaving a lot of his hair lose around his shoulders, just braiding away the top part that bothers him when it falls across his face.

“We’re not just talking about hair, are we?” Iris guesses.

“Nah.”

Iris hums as she finishes up, securing the tie back around his hair so the braid is fixed in place.

“How do I look?” Gladio asks.

“Dashing,” Iris teases, “Here -”

She clambers off the couch and grabs the mirror Prompto has propped up on a table against the wall, taking up space on what suffices as a desk and a dining table. Carrying it over she lowers it so Gladio can see his reflection, older and more haggard than he’s used to but -

His hair looks _good_. Like something a Glaive might wear, intricate from each of his temples, working into a larger one that trails down the back of his neck.

“I gotta show Prompto,” Iris says taking the mirror away and when she returns phone in hand Gladio plays nice, letting her take a picture from the front and then angling his head so she can take one of all her work.

Gladio watches her smiling as she sends the text, pleased and proud of herself for small accomplishment, just as she should be.

“Hey,” Gladio says, “I don’t say it enough, but I love you, kid. Okay.”

Iris frowns at him over her phone, throwing herself back onto the couch.

“Duh,” she says, “I know.”


	4. Noctis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GladNoct, Gladnis, background OT4

Noctis is _tiny_.

Apart from the kitten he saw in the gardens a few days ago Gladio has never seen anything so _small_.

Dad helps him up onto the edge of the bed where Auntie Aulea is resting, holding the tiny baby in her arms.

“Would you like to hold him?” she asks. Gladio nods excitedly and Dad puts a hand on his shoulder to make him stay put when he tries to scramble closer.

“You have to be careful,” Dad tells him and Gladio nods again.

Ma steps up beside Auntie Aulea and the queen raises the baby a little so Gladio’s mother can take him into her arms. Cradling Noctis in one arm she strokes across his head.

“He’s beautiful,” Ma tells her and they share a smile, Aulea’s face tired but beaming.

“Gently,” Ma warns and she lowers Noctis into Gladio’s hold.

He’s _tiny_ and Gladio could absolutely hold him by himself but somehow he doesn’t mind when Mama leaves her hand under Noctis’ back to help.

“Noctis,” Gladio says out loud and he watches his little face pinch tighter, wrinkly and kind of ugly.

Ma laughs softly.

“That’s right,” she tells him, “That’s your Noctis.”

<>

“Here,” Ignis says and he reaches out to adjust the collar of Gladio’s official Crownsguard uniform, “Now you look perfect.”

Gladio smirks and Ignis clears his throat, looking away quickly with a pretty blush across his cheeks.

“You’re not nervous at all?” Ignis asks but with the kind of flat tone that lets Gladio know he already knows the answer.

“Why would I be?”

Gladio’s been training for this his entire life. The next hour or so where he stands in a room full of people and says words from a script are _nothing_ compared to how he knows he feels deep down inside. He was loyal to Noct - _devoted_ \- even before he liked the little brat.

Back when Gladio actually _believed_ he was a little brat.

Sure Noctis is quiet, moody and a little standoffish even on his best days but he also _tries_. If he falls down he gets back up, he keeps going to school even though he hates the way everyone stares at him. His spine is made of steel and his heart only earnest.

“It’s the rest of your life,” Ignis says softly, “That would certainly bear some thinking about, at least.”

“It was the start of my life too,” Gladio argues, “This is all I’ve known, all I’ve wanted. I’m good.”

Ignis chuckles, “Noctis joked this morning that he’d be more nervous than you. He’ll be delighted to know he was right.”

“Speeches are the one thing I can’t _Shield_ him from I guess.”

Ignis tries to hide a grin behind his hand but Gladio _knows_ he appreciated it.

“Go check on him,” Gladio suggests, “At least one of us should be there for him right now.”

Ignis reaches up to squeeze his shoulder, “I’ll see you out there shortly.”

-

Regis welcomes half a dozen new Crownsguard, each of them connecting to the Crystal’s magic through him and then Noctis steps up into the foreground and stands straight backed and formal as he recites the words of his carefully crafted speech. Gladio listens but he doesn’t need to _hear_ the words Noct is saying. Everything that needs to be said for this, between them, has already happened, in the forging of their bond, in the way Gladio’s loyalty to him began in duty but was transformed by friendship.

It’s no secret he hadn’t liked Noctis at first. Gladio’s ashamed to admit Noctis had needed to prove himself before Gladio had been able to see past the affected laziness and disinterest.

Gladio is _so proud_ of him.

Noctis takes a step towards him and raises both hands, palm up and waiting for Gladio’s. Gladio closes the gap, covering his palms, not surprised or bothered by how they’re trembling _just_ a little.

This is the first time Noct’s ever done this, that Noct’s ever connected his magic to anyone. Sure Ignis is going to follow on in his footsteps soon but Gladio is _first_. Fifteen years Gladio has watched Noctis grow and learn, helped him through his physical pain and eventually growing to offer him emotional support too.

“Ready?” Gladio murmurs and Noct manages a half smile for him.

“If you are,” Noct says.

Gladio gives a little nod and Noct’s hands shimmer with magic beneath his own, the cool electrifying feeling of it rushing over his skin.

\- - -

Noct’s nineteenth birthday is bright and scorching. They spend an afternoon at a small fishing pond in the outskirts of the city and then pile back to Noct’s apartment where he and Ignis have to pretend not to notice the way Noct and Prompto are standing just a little _too_ close to each other and holding hands under the table. Or the way Prompto blushes bright red and squirms when Gladio throws his arm over his shoulder. The shiver of Noct’s spine when Ignis pushes back his dark hair to get him ready for a photograph.

 _Divide and conquer_ Ignis had said before they parted in the kitchen and Gladio takes a moment to watch his current love approach who he hoped is about to become a new one before he makes his way out onto Noct’s balcony.

Prompto would be easier, not to _convince_ but to approach. Less charged, the interaction less weighted by history.

“’Sup Gladio,” Noct greets him, gesturing with his soda in a kind of bizarre salute.

“Hey handsome,” Gladio says and probably enjoys the way Noct's face flushes just a little more than he should.

Noct sputters a little when he attempts to respond, recovering by taking a large gulp of his soda. Gladio walks up close and leans his hip against the railing, Noct shifts a little closer and Gladio wonders if this will actually be as difficult as he suspected.

“You get everything you want?” Gladio asks and Noct’s eyes shoot up to his face under his sweep of dark hair.

“Almost,” Noctis says.

Gladio inches a little closer again.

“Any way I can help with that?” Gladio asks.

Noct bites his lip and looks away, glancing back again after a long moment.

“Not without upsetting Ignis,” Noct says.

It’s the closest Gladio thinks he’s going to get to _Noct_ outright saying what the four of them have been dancing around for _months_ , the little flame of _want_ that Gladio’s been kindling for _years_ now. He’d thought it wasn’t appropriate, that it was _unfair_ to other people in his life but if Ignis says its okay, that they can _do this_ then Gladio’s ready to jump in both feet first.

“You won’t upset Ignis,” Gladio says, “We’ve talked about. I promise -”

Noct shifts away from the railing faster can Gladio can blink and he gets one good look at fierce grey-blue eyes before Noct is right up in his space pressing his mouth a little clumsily against his own. Gladio braces Noct to him with a hand on the small of his back and one against his fine jaw, startled not for the first time in his life how _small_ Noctis feels in his hold.

“It’s really okay?” Noct breathes against his mouth, “And you want _me_ \- it’s not just -”

“Noct,” Gladio interrupts, “Of course it’s _you_.”

Gladio’s been devoted to Noctis his whole life, the shape and the form of that devotion is the only thing that’s ever changed. They were always going to be together through thick and thin but Gladio _chooses_ this.

Chooses him.


	5. Clarus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> background OT4

Gladio had inherited his father’s temper, softened slightly by him mothers gentleness.

Gladio had grown up _big_. He’d never not been the tallest in his class, never not had the broadest shoulders and the longest legs. He’d hit six feet at fourteen and surpassed his fathers impressive form just a few years later. Gladio’s friendly, he _loves_ people, but they’re on edge the moment he approaches, wary and distrusting purely because one glance at him lets them know he _could_ hurt them without any of the tempering knowledge that he never would.

Gladio manages to make friends though, easier as he gets older, learning how to smile just right and sink his shoulders down so he seems less threatening.

His life is a duality of _being_ as strongest in a room while _hiding_ that strength as best he can.

Gladio knows he can be too tough sometimes, all of his and Noct’s problems could be solved - Ignis thinks - by Gladio meeting Noct halfway, cutting him enough slack so he _wants_ to do what Gladio’s asking him but there isn’t _time_.

Gladio worries he’s too tough, almost brutish, but there’s not space in his life for being gentle and soft.

<>

Noct’s being _difficult_ again.

Ignis must know why but Gladio and Noct don’t have that kind of bond. They’re _friends_ now at least, though it’s not always easy between them. Noct starts High School in the autumn and he’s unhappy about attending but even more unhappy about the idea of privately tutored in the Citadel.

“Get your head out of your ass,” Gladio rumbles, only narrowly pulling his swing back far enough to escape the horror of chopping off one of the Prince’s limbs.

“Shut up,” Noct snaps.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Gladio asks him, trying to keep a lid on his temper.

Noct tosses his sword across the room and it clatters noisily against the wall.

“Nothing is wrong with me,” Noct says angrily.

“Sure looks like it to me,” Gladio says, “Stop being a brat. Pick that up and lets get back to it.”

Noct _glares_ at him, full of righteous fourteen year old fury but the longer their eyes stay locked the more _misty_ Noct’s look. A second too late Gladio realises that Noct’s _upset_ , on the verge of tears and not just having a childish tantrum.

“Noct…” Gladio says but when he steps forward Noctis _flinches_ back from him.

Like he’s afraid.

Their lock eyes again, all semblance of Noct’s fury gone. It lasts but eight seconds before Noct is turning on his heel and storming from the training room.

Three minutes later Gladio’s cleaning up the equipment and his father texts him.

 _Come to my office_.

Gladio actually spends a very little amount of time in his father’s office. Gladio’s only duty so far is training Noct, guarding him but very rarely and his old man tries to give Gladio as much autonomy in those things as possible. Rarely is his Gladio’s _father_ in this building and infrequently does he have cause to call his son into his office.

The office door is open when Gladio arrives and Gladio shuffles in, not sure if this reprimand is coming from his superior or a parent.

Clarus reaches under his desk and Gladio listens as something opens and closes. Clarus sets a soda on the desk in front of Gladio, condensation beading on the surface of the can.

“There’s a fridge under your desk?” Gladio blurts.

His Dad nods, smiling as he gestures at the vacant chair.

“Ignis has taken His Highness back to his rooms,” Dad tells him.

“Okay,” Gladio says, waiting for the reprimand to start. Gladio doesn’t know where he went wrong, doesn’t quite know what he _did_ but it’s something and he’d upset the one person he's supposed to protect. He’d been too tough, to strong headed and he’d hurt him. Hurt Noctis.

Gladio really _was_ a brute.

“You’re more than just a shield, Gladio.”

“I know,” Gladio says, “I’m supposed to be a teacher and -”

“No,” Dad interrupts. His father sighs and settles his forearms on his desk, leaning in towards Gladio.

“One day you’ll be more than that,” Dad says, “One day you’ll be real friends, brothers in arms.”

Gladio frowns, “We are friends.”

Dad sighs again and Gladio feels the bitter swell of disappointment inside him again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong but it’s _something_.

“Friends but Noctis would rather run away from you than tell you what is upsetting him?”

Gladio opens his mouth then closes it again.

“Do you and Noctis ever talk about anything but training? School?”

Gladio shakes his head, guilt building slowly in his chest alongside where his burgeoning affection for Noctis lives.

“You’re allowed to be more than a _Shield_ Gladio,” his father says, “You’re allowed to be a person too.”

Gladio frowns.

“Drink your soda,” Dad tells him and Gladio reaches for it, holding the cold metal against his palm. His dad surveys him and sighs again, “You’re worth more than the strength in your arms Gladio and I’m sorry if that’s not something I’ve told you before.”

“This is my duty, my _responsibility_ -”

“And you’re allowed to be _other things_ too,” Dad reiterates.

“But what if - what if -” Gladio starts twice and stops. Unable to put this into words. If he tries to be _more_ he runs the risk of not being _enough_.

“What are you frightened of?” Dad asks.

Gladio bristles, he’s not _frightened_ of anything - he’s not supposed to be anyway. But this - maybe this he is.

“If I try to be more than just a physical barrier between Noctis and harm maybe I’ll fail at _both_ ,” Gladio admits, “Maybe I won't be a good friend _or_ a good Shield.”

“His heart and his mind need protecting just as much as his body,” his father says.

Gladio cracks open the can and takes a big gulp, the bubbles fizzing against his tongue.

“I - I don’t think I can do that,” Gladio breathes, “I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”

He thinks of Noct flinching away from him earlier and _knows_ that he wouldn’t be very good at it.

“Vulnerability won’t make you weak, Gladiolus,” Dad says and for the first time his tone is a little sharp.

Gladio snorts, “Then why am I trained to look for people’s vulnerabilities before an attack?”

Clarus shakes his head.

“This is different and you know it.”

\- - -

They leave Insomnia in the morning.

Iris has cried all her tears and they’ve eaten the farewell dinner, gathered in the family room for one last warm drink before bed.

“I have something for you,” Dad tells him when it’s just the two of them - cocoa swapped for tumblers of whisky.

“You didn’t need to -”

“I wanted to,” he presses, “To show you how proud I am. How proud your mother would have been.”

Dad heaves himself up from the couch and makes his way to the cloak closet pulling from within a long, leather wrapped bundle. Gladio’s been around long enough to know it’s sword, two thirds the height of him standing and easily as wide as his bicep. It’s unusual for his Dad to store a weapon anywhere but the armiger, safely held by the King’s magic.

“I had this made for you,” Dad says, holding it out flat and carefully pulling back the wrapping.

It’s a beautiful sword, crafted by the finest in the Citadel Gladio is sure, the handle intricate without sacrificing any form, blade gleaming in the low light.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dad says, “For everything you’ve done. For everything you’ve tried.”

Gladio swallows and pushes himself up from the couch.

“Thank you,” Gladio says and he takes the sword in hand. It’s wonderfully balanced of course, the perfect weight and length for him - imposing and heavy.

“You’re more than your physical strength,” his Dad says, “You can protect them with the strength of you heart too. May that it never waver.”

“It won’t,” Gladio says. Sure in a way he never was in his youth, resolve strengthened by the bonds forged between the four of them, backed by his father's blessing and pride.

“ _This_ vulnerability gives you strength,” Dad presses, “This makes you who you are.”

“I’ll keep making you proud,” Gladio promises.


	6. Cor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some straight up game dialogue in this one because I’m a menace.
> 
> Background OT4 + grief/mourning again

Gladio doesn’t remember this of course but he’s known Cor since he was eleven minutes old.

Cor doesn’t lend himself to the kind of soft familiarity that would earn himself the moniker _Uncle Cor_ or anything but he’s been a steady presence in Gladio’s life since the moment he was born. Cor is the first one to put a sword in his hand that isn’t made of foam and he pushes Gladio to be the best he can in a no nonsense, zero fuss kind of way.

Cor isn’t _warm_ but nor is he cold and Gladio’s always taken comfort in his continued presence.

Gladio’s father had impressed upon him the importance of a strong body and character but it’s Cor that takes extra time to make sure his mind is as sharp as his blade, that Gladio could come up with an assault plan - and a plan _b_ \- as quickly as he can counter an attack from a foe.

“Eagerness and _anger_ will only get you so far in a real fight,” Cor teaches him, “You need to keep calm and logical too.”

It’s not exactly Gladio’s strong suit but with Iggy’s help they make it work.

<>

“Step forward into the strike,” Cor tells him, demonstrating with his own long sword, “Or it’ll be deflected too easily.”

Gladio nods determinedly and raises his blade again, stepping through with the motions like Cor suggested.

“Better,” Cor concedes, “Again.”

\- - -

Gladio emerges from ruins with the wound on his chest still bleeding sluggishly, his last potion not _quite_ enough to stop the flow. Both it and the cut on his face will scar but Gladio considers that a small price to pay for what he gained along the trial.

He’s good enough, _strong_ enough to return to Noct’s side. To stay with him until the very end. To help Iggy and Prompto aid their King and love on his difficult journey.

Cor’s waiting for him, and honestly Gladio’s a little surprised. Pleased too, because it meant Cor had enough faith in him to think he was worth waiting for.

“You made it,” Cor says in lieu of anything else.

Gladio nods, “Sure did.”

“And so quickly,” Cor notes, “I’m impressed.” He actually sounds it too, Gladio feels his spine strengthen a little more with the extra trickle of pride.

Gladio’s still holding the sword given to him by the Blademaster, the long blade of the katana perfectly balanced in his hands.

“Brought this back with me, too,” Gladio tells him, pushing it closer to Cor in an obvious gesture for him to take it, “Figured _you_ might get a kick out of it.”

Cor huffs slightly, “I wondered where I put that thing.”

Gladio continues to stand there holding the katana out, it’s not heavy but it is starting to feel a little awkward. Cor glances down at the weapon before meeting Gladio’s eyes again.

“Keep it. Makes for a better souvenir than that scar,” Cor says.

Without waiting to make sure Gladio’s following Cor turns and begins walking further out into the light, along the trail that first led them down into the tempering grounds.

“We’ll need to see to those cuts,” Cor says when Gladio’s keeping pace at his side, “We can stop just a head.”

Cor halts with as little warning as he started walking, gesturing to a flattish rock that Gladio can take a seat on. Gladio settles his new weapon up against it and then sits, surprised when Cor pulls forth a civilian style med-kit. Gladio should have known really, considering Cor had forced the last of their healing items onto him before they parted.

Probably saved Gladio’s life, realistically.

Cor cleans his forehead for him, movements methodically and not _un_ gentle. He passes Gladio the kit and instructs him to uses some of the disinfectant wipes on the wound of his chest.

“Infection will kill you just as soon as anything else,” Cor reminds him.

“I did the civilian first aid just like everyone else,” Gladio says, wincing as the antiseptic stings.

Cor huffs a laugh, “But you’ve grown up with access to unlimited access to curative, a refresher never hurts.”

Gladio nods and then hold steady while Cor affixes adhesive strips over the widest part of the wound on his face.

“You’ll be good as new by the time you see the boys again,” Cor assures him.

Cor helps him to his feet and Gladio swings the sword up over his shoulder, walking beside his mentor under the mid morning light.

“Y’know,” Gladio starts after a minute of silence has lapsed, “He mentioned he lost his arm in battle with a real hot-headed you guy back in the day.”

“That so?” Cor says blandly.

“Whoever it was left a lasting impression on him,” Gladio continues, “Talked about how the guy had the strongest will he’d ever seen.”

\- - -

Gladio helps settle Iggy and Prompto into Lestallum and then books it out of there.

He’s not _running_ _away_ but he can’t stand still, he can’t just _wait_.

Gladio tries not to think of Prompto’s hurt expression as he left, the tears gathered at the corner of his eyes and the calm way Ignis had simply said _farewell_ without turning his face towards him.

Gladio ends up at the Hunters HQ taking on the tricker hunts, going out with teams for the daemons too big to take on alone. It’s not the same as fighting alongside his _real_ companions but it’s enough to keep his mind busy and stop him dwelling on the end of the world, everything that had happened to Ignis and his _King_ vanishing beyond his reach, his _protection_.

“I thought you were better than this.”

Gladio would turn around quickly to glare but he’s currently nursing a killer bruise along his left flank - knocked to the side by a iron giant in a mess of a hunt the day before. There wasn’t any blood and he managed to regain his feet so he’d eschewed curatives to heal it up, planning to rest up for just long enough that mobility returns and then head back out.

“Everyone takes hits sometimes,” Gladio snaps and Cor’s eyebrow pull up his forehead a little, “I’ll recover and do better next time.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Cor says. He’s got his usual, no nonsense tone he always uses but Gladio thinks he knows him well enough by now that Cor really _is_ disappointed in him. It’s probably the way he’s staring at him, corner of his mouth _just_ turned down enough to push past a neutral frown towards something infinitely sadder.

“I’m trying to be helpful,” Gladio says tiredly, “What good is a Shield without a King?”

“What good is a Shield that throws himself recklessly into danger?” Cor asks, “You’re better than this.”

Gladio scowls at him, “Order me back then. Take me away from the fight and make me hole up in Lestallum like a -”

“Careful,” Cor interrupts, “Your boyfriends and your sister and your colleagues are all _holing up_ in Lestallum right now and none of them are anything but useful and brave.”

Gladio tries to glower, to stay proud and angry in the face of Cor’s disapproval but the longer Cor looks at him the _worse_ he feels. The longer Gladio sits here remembering his lovers, his _family_ , the more he _misses_ them and the obvious comfort of their presence. The niggling thought that it won’t be right, it won’t be _okay_ or the same without Noct there tries to swallow him whole but Gladio stamps it down.

Of _course_ it’ll be different, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth having.

Gladio slumps down, the fight going right out of him and as Cor takes a seat next to him he allows himself the simple pleasure of pressing his palm into the sorest of his ribs, lessening the ache just a little.

“I’m sorry,” Gladio says in a low voice, “And thank you. For coming.”

Cor shrugs, “You’d have gotten there on your own eventually. I just didn’t want you to regret anything by staying away too long.”

“I’ll make my way back,” Gladio promises.

“I’ll drive you,” Cor says and uncharacteristically pats him on the knee, “And there’s an Elixir in the truck with your name on it. Need some help keeping the area around Lestallum clear.”

Gladio laughs.

“So this wasn’t all for me.”

Cor _almost_ smiles.

“We have a job to do - keeping the world safe until the King returns.”


	7. Prompto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promptio, Gladnis, background OT4
> 
> Prompto deals with things post Zegnatus but he's not the POV character so it's pretty mild.

Prompto doesn’t always pick things up fast.

He always gets it eventually but sometimes it takes him two or three or _six_ tries.

Gladio’s not used to this. He grew up with Ignis and Noct who either excelled at everything they put their hands to straight away or were only willing to _try_ things they knew they’d be good at sooner rather than later.

But Prompto.

Prompto will try _anything_ and he’ll keep trying until he gets it or it’s clear he’s not going to get it. He attends a half dozen training sessions where he tries to heft shields as heavy as he is before Cor steps in and asks him to switch to secondary hand to hand training. Prompto fails AP Chemistry in High School and rather than accept the pass for a less impressive class he sits it over and lands in the top quarter of the class.

So yeah, Gladio’s not used to this and he’s not as patient as he could be, snapping more than he likes and showing his frustration whenever they have to start _over_.

But even in this Prompto just tries again. The little frisson of hurt that Gladio’s visibly displeased with him only fleetingly creases his brow and every day they work together - before the road trip and well into it - Gladio starts to realise that he’s one of the most impressive people he’s ever met.

Patient and determined where others would throw in the towel.

\- - -

Gladio sleeps the best in the tent out of the four of them.

Which is good because - Noct excluded of course - his mood is the worst affected by lack of sleep.

Ignis could probably function perfectly on two hours a night and Prompto’s effortless cheeriness never dims no matter how dark the circles under his eyes grow. Noct could sleep for sixteen hours and still be sleepy but it rarely actually affects his _mood_. Gladio though - less than six hours and he’s short, even less patient than normal and quicker to grumpiness.

They’d gotten to the camper last night at almost three am, bright headlights making the road ahead of them safe. They’d flopped into a messy pile on the double mattress in the back but the bright lights had streamed in through the window just after six o'clock and woke them all up. Noct excluded again of course.

So yeah, Gladio’s not feeling his best so when Prompto lifts the mallet and messes up the strike on the tent peg that would secure it to the haven Gladio huffs and sighs so loud he almost startles himself.

Prompto startles too, squaring his shoulders stubbornly like he’s going to carry on whether Gladio likes it or not but then he just kind of deflates, shoulders drooping and shifting aside on his knees to pass the mallet to Gladio.

“It’ll be faster if you do it,” Prompto mutters.

As he starts to leave properly, pushing himself upright Gladio reaches out to grab his arm, bare and warm in the cool evening air.

“You were doing a great job,” Gladio assures him, “I’m sorry, I’m just tired.”

Prompto smiles, a little wan and showing his own exhaustion just a little but when he stands to leave, on his way to help Iggy with dinner, he stops to press a warm kiss against Gladio’s temple and the Shield knows he’s forgiven. Even if Prompto probably hadn’t thought there was anything to forgive.

<>

Prompto doesn’t ever get any _time_ to just exist after what happened to him in Niflheim.

Gladio helps Noct take the living, breathing _heart_ of their relationship down from his restraints and then helps Prompto up to his feet as soon as the blond can manage. They need sleep, _Prompto_ needs sleep and time to talk and process all the things he learnt about himself but they just don’t have any. They heal his wounds and get him cleaned up and then they’re on their way again, fighting and moving through the keep until -

Until it’s suddenly all over.

Aranea saves them from Niflheim and flies them back to Insomnia, Lestallum to be exact, and the Gladio’s own grief - hidden as ever - drives him away from his remaining lovers.

By the time he comes crawling back two months have past and he grovels his way back into the bed with more ease than he’d have allowed were their roles reversed. Ignis warns him the first night that he might be woken in the night.

“City loud now?” Gladio asks. That would make sense, more bodies, less space. Their apartment is small but already feels cosy and homey with the three of them there.

Ignis shakes his head and drops his voice, “Prompto’s having trouble sleeping. We’ll try not to disturb you.” No one needs to say _why_ Prompto’s having trouble sleeping.

“No,” Gladio says, “Disturb me, I’m here now, I wanna help.”

Ignis smiles and feels his way across Gladio’s chest to his shoulder so he can push himself up and brush a kiss across Gladio’s cheek.

“You know you need your beauty sleep,” Ignis teases.

Sure enough Gladio wakes to the sound of a whimper, followed immediately by Iggy’s soothing hush.

“You’re alright, love,” Ignis whispers, “You’re not there, you’re _here_ with me.”

Gladio shifts and presses forward the few inches between him and Prompto, who’d fallen asleep between him and Ignis just a few hours earlier. Gladio slots his chest to Prompto’s back and for a second the blond stiffens before slumping boneless against him with a wet sniffle.

“I’m here,” Gladio mumbles, kissing a freckled shoulder, “Me and Iggy are right here with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Prompto stutters.

Gladio slides his arm around Prompto’s waist and palms up his chest, squeezing Prompto tight to his body and hoping to ground him.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Gladio reassures him.

“Where are you, darling?” Ignis asks.

Prompto lifts a fist to rub at his eye and breathes out slowly.

“Lestallum,” he says after a moment, “In Lestallum in our apartment. And now Gladio is home too.”

“That’s right,” Ignis says.

“I’m home,” Gladio agrees.

Prompto nods.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Prompto says and he gives Gladio’s arms a squeeze before slithering from his hold and off the mattress.

“Gladio,” Ignis says, low and alarmed.

Gladio’s already pushing back the blankets, “I’m going.”

Prompto is in fact by the sink and he has a glass by his hand but instead of filling it with water he just stands there, staring out of the dark window with his shoulders trembling. He looks _cold_.

Gladio stops by the couch to grab the hoodie he’d discarded earlier, unzipping it as he approaches Prompto so he can drape it over his bare shoulders as soon as he reaches his side.

“Sorry,” Prompto says again and Gladio just shakes his head, taking Prompto’s empty glass and reaching around him to fill it from the tap.

Gladio kisses his head and holds out the full glass, waiting while Prompto slowly releases his fingers from the edge of the sink and reaches out to take it. Prompto drains it in a few long gulps, placing the glass back down gently then threading his arms through the sleeves of the hoodie.

“Huh,” Gladio muses, “That looks better on you.”

It really does. Hanging most of the way down his thighs and swamping his little frame.

Prompto blushes and ducks his head, tucking his cheek against then collar of the hoodie.

“Thanks,” Prompto says, “I’m glad you’re back.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Gladio says.

Prompto shakes his head, “I knew you’d come - would have waited forever for you to come back.”

“You’re more patient than I am,” Gladio says, laughing a little.

“Duh,” Prompto chirps and Gladio laughs for real.

“You ready to go back to bed?” Gladio asks.

“Will you read to me for a while?”

Gladio bends just enough to scoop Prompto into his arms so he can carry him back to bed, luxuriating in Prompto’s happy squeal and the giggle that follows.

“Anything you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap on Gladio week!! I went back and forth about whether I was happy with all of these but I think ultimately I'm happy with what I did and the concept I came up with. Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Rambling on Twitter at [@Ginger_El_](https://twitter.com/Ginger_El_).


End file.
